


Mine, No Matter Where We Are

by Grace Kay (Drummerchick7)



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, I don't know, Meet-Cute, One-Shot, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Swing Dancing, Wayhaught - Freeform, definitely not period-typical language, either works, mild non-con kissing, only mentions of both, or is it cute-meet?, that just sounded wrong coming out of their mouths
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 05:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16079723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drummerchick7/pseuds/Grace%20Kay
Summary: Series of one-shots, alternate universe meet-cutes. WayHaught.





	Mine, No Matter Where We Are

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea because of the AU episode in season 2. And also because I've been working on a project sort of like this for a few years with some original characters.
> 
> I thought it'd be fun to apply the concept to WayHaught. I dunno if it'll get explicit at any point, but at least with the first chapter, it's a T rating.
> 
> A big thank you to deathrae for betaing!

The door opened on a seedy hallway. A lilting music drifted through the air, though Waverly’s heart pounded so hard she could barely detect the beat.

She was nervous. Oh, was she nervous. But she came here of her own volition and she had made it to the door. She may as well go in.

The bouncer outside was male, large and powerful and eyeing them with just a hint of disdain. But inside the bouncer was female, also powerful, though smaller, leaner. Her eyes traveled over Waverly appreciatively, and Waverly knew she had made the right decision to come here and have this experience. She may never do it again, but she had to _know_. Had to try it just once, to explore this part of herself even briefly before putting it away forever.

“Told you,” Wynonna whispered. A hand appeared at Waverly’s hip, guiding her forward. “This is the place you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

Waverly nodded, took a deep breath, and moved forward, away from the lady bouncer whose eyes she could feel glued to her behind. The thought made her giddy.

Down the dark, dingy hallway they traveled, the music growing louder until the walls cut away. A large room was revealed, with couples dancing and people milling around tables smoking and drinking. A band played on the stage. It almost looked like every other club you might stumble into.

Except every single person wearing trousers was a woman.

Waverly’s heart fluttered. She’d imagined dapper women, had seen a few on the street. She found them extraordinarily attractive, though she’d never tried speaking with anyone who looked like _that_.

Wynonna’s voice sounded loud at her shoulder, competing with the volume of the band. “Come on, baby girl. Rosita’s already on the dance floor – look!”

Waverly began moving again, eyes traveling over the floor until she found their friend. Rosita danced exuberantly to the fast-paced song the band had just started playing, her skirt twirling out often as she was turned this way and that. Waverly had seen Rosita suffer no end of grief for her dark skin and open flirtation with those dapper women they saw on the street. But Waverly had never seen Rosita conducting herself with such abandon, such lack of caution. She’d never been able to.

It was beautiful.

“Okay baby girl, here we go.”

Waverly turned back toward her sister, accepting a tumbler of brown liquid.

“Bottoms up, baby girl,” Wynonna said, clinking their glasses before downing her own.

Waverly followed suit, appreciating the burn of the liquid even as it made her grimace. She definitely needed this liquid courage if she was going to do anything but watch from the sidelines.

Wynonna grabbed two more glasses and left the bar, wending her way between tables, waving to familiar faces on occasion as she led Waverly through the crowd. A table ahead of them emptied just as Wynonna approached, and Wynonna took the opportunity to slide into one of the chairs. Waverly joined her, smoothing her skirt as she took her seat.

 _This is weird_ , she thought, scooting her chair in toward the table. _Usually Champ would push the seat in for me_.

She shuddered at the thought of her ex. He had been drafted and gone off to war, leaving Waverly alone. But not before convincing her to have sex with him the night before his deployment, against her better judgment. He had then not written once in the six months he had been gone, despite his mother getting a letter weekly. Waverly wrote him off and moved on, but didn’t much like being reminded of him.

At least she hadn’t turned up pregnant.

“So why a lesbian bar?” Waverly finally asked Wynonna. She’d been afraid to ask thus far, not knowing how to process it if she learned Wynonna had been attracted to women this whole time and keeping it a secret. But now that she was here, well… she _had_ to know.

“The dancing,” Wynonna said, nodding toward the dance floor. “I can wear my trousers and dance lead and I don’t get harassed by anyone, gentleman or otherwise.”

Waverly nodded. She knew Wynonna preferred dancing lead. She and Wynonna had been dancing together for a long time. It was how each of them had learned. But you couldn’t go out and dance lead with men. And you couldn’t go out to a normal place wearing trousers and suspenders and dance lead with women.

“So, what about the women?” Waverly asked.

“I’ve been coming here enough that everyone knows I’m not here for the ladies.” Wynonna winked at Waverly. “I’ve tried, but it’s just not my thing.”

Waverly felt herself blush. So Wynonna _had_ tried it. And Waverly hadn’t. She sighed. She had a lot to catch up on.

“C’mon, baby girl, drink up,” Wynonna said as the song ended. “Let’s get out on the floor!”

Waverly nodded, tipped up her second glass of whiskey, and drained the thing. Then she draped her sweater over the back of her chair and took Wynonna’s outstretched hand.

They began dancing immediately, and Waverly forgot for a moment. She forgot her nervousness. She forgot Champ and his thoughtlessness. She forgot the weeks of worrying she was pregnant, followed by the months of confusion about her sexuality – prompted by Wynonna befriending Rosita and bringing her around when they spent time together. She forgot her alcohol and her lack of dinner and how drunk she usually got when she did that.

She forgot it all for just a minute or two, and it was glorious. She and Wynonna had learned to dance together and moved like a well-oiled machine and it felt so _good_ to do so on this dance floor and _know_ that no one was about to ask them why they were doing what they were doing.

Twirled out on a turn, Waverly came face to face with Rosita.

“Hi!” Rosita yelled with a quick wave.

Waverly was only able to smile before being pulled back in. Wynonna turned her around, and Waverly caught a glimpse of Rosita’s dance partner over Wynonna’s shoulder.

She was stunning. Red hair lay flat against her head, pulled back into a low ponytail. A women’s-cut white blouse was open at the collar, suspenders over the shoulders holding up slim-cut trousers. Bright white and brown saddle shoes completed the ensemble.

Brighter than any of the clothing, however, was the smile the woman flashed as she moved Rosita into another turn.

“See someone you like?” Wynonna asked.

Waverly blushed as Wynonna sent her out into another turn. She watched her sister glance over her shoulder, then back to Waverly with a raised eyebrow and a nod of approval. Then they were swinging out, back and forth, and Waverly’s attention was diverted for a moment as she put her energy into hip swivels, kicking and hopping with the beat the band played.

The song ended, and Wynonna pulled her close so she could be heard over the applause for the band. “Good job showing off on those swing outs. The redhead was definitely looking.”

Waverly felt her face flush again. She needed another drink if she was going to survive this, but she never got the chance.

“Waves!” Rosita yelled, and then Waverly’s arms were full.

“Rosie!”

Rosita left her embrace and moved for Wynonna, leaving Waverly stuck awkwardly fixing the hair displaced by Rosita’s enthusiasm.

“Hi.”

Waverly turned and found herself looking up into brown eyes, crinkled with a smile. Red hair and suspenders filled her eyes, and Waverly stared far too long at the woman’s face before she finally managed to speak.

“H- hi!” Waverly internally cringed at her reply. Far too much enthusiasm. Nervous energy. She was so, _so_ very nervous.

“You know Rosita?” the redhead asked.

“Oh, um. Yeah. She’s friends with my sister.” Waverly hiked a thumb over her shoulder.

“Oh. So that’s not your girlfriend, showing you off on the floor like that?”

Waverly’s eyes grew big at that. “What? No! Wynonna is… not… we learned to dance together, that’s all!”

Waverly took a deep breath, and the redhead took the opportunity to make Waverly unable to breathe. “Well, what a relief. Here I thought I had competition.” She winked.

Waverly opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“I’m Nicole Haught,” the woman said. “May I have this dance?” She offered her arm.

Words still eluded Waverly – finding women attractive had _not_ prepared her for actually having one take a fancy to her. She nodded vigorously and took the offered arm.

“So I know your sister’s name,” Nicole said as she moved with Waverly to a more favorable spot on the dance floor. “What’s your name?”

 _Oh, how dumb of me._ “Waverly. Earp.” _So charming, Waverly._

Nicole quickly wrapped her arm around Waverly’s waist, tucking her in close as she took Waverly’s free right hand. “Well, Waverly Earp. Are you ready to dance?” Nicole had the most _charming_ smile on her face. With _dimples_.

“Y- yes?” Waverly said, just now noticing that the song was quite fast.

It was a whirlwind of a dance. As any good lead is supposed to do, Nicole started simple, working her way to more complex moves over the course of the song so she and Waverly could get a feel for the other’s style. It made Waverly feel respected, something she only now realized she hadn’t felt a whole hell of a lot in her life.

It was all just so new. _Every time_ she was pulled in close, Waverly tried to memorize the feeling. Nicole was warm and, yes, a bit sweaty, but she smelled like floral shampoo and her body was lithe and graceful. Nicole’s hip fit nicely just above Waverly’s, allowing tight turns while in a closed hold that usually weren’t possible.

And that smile. Except for looking over her shoulder to make sure she didn’t send Waverly careening into another dancing couple, Nicole made as much eye contact with Waverly as possible. Instead of being intimidating, it made Waverly smile back, and by the end of the song she could have sworn she was in love.

“Let me escort you back to your sister, Waverly Earp,” Nicole said, leaning close just as Wynonna had so as to be heard over the applause.

Waverly’s heart pounded, from the dancing, from the closeness, she’d never know. But the closeness was _nice_ and she wanted _more_ of it.

“O- okay,” Waverly said. She took Nicole’s arm again, and followed as Nicole opened space ahead of them through the throng.

She was dropped off with Wynonna and Rosita after a quick introduction, and Waverly immediately grabbed Wynonna’s glass and downed its contents.

“Damn, baby girl, was it that bad?!”

Waverly shook her head. She didn’t think she was in love anymore – she’d always had quite an imagination – but she was certainly _smitten_ and she needed more liquid courage if she was going to get back in there. So far all she’d managed to say out loud were a few stumbled answers and her own name. She needed to _relax_ or she wouldn’t be able to manage this.

“Or was it that _good_?” Rosita chimed in, hand on her chin as she smiled over at Waverly.

“That one,” Waverly said before turning and flagging down a waitress for a refill of their glasses.

“Well, you both certainly looked like you were having a great time,” Rosita said.

“So did _you_ ,” Wynonna said, raising an eyebrow in Rosita’s direction.

Rosita shrugged. “She’s nice, pretty. But I know a real connection when I see one.” She grinned. “My goal is to make sure you _don’t_ go home with Wy, Waves.”

Waverly choked on nothing. The thoughts that sentence provoked sent a flush spreading rapidly from head to toe.

“How do women even-” she blurted. She stopped before she embarrassed herself further and hid her face behind a napkin.

Rosita and Wynonna both threw back their heads and laughed.

“Oh, you sweet girl!” Rosita exclaimed, pulling Waverly into an awkward hug while still seated. “Trust me, that girl knows what she’s _doing_. She’ll show you every step of the way.”

Waverly felt her flush deepen, but she nodded. Of course a woman that dapper and that confident – cocky, even – would have done this before and would know exactly what she was doing. It was a little intimidating, but Waverly reminded herself that she was getting way far ahead of things. They’d shared _one_ dance. Waverly had said very little. That did not make a relationship. It barely made an acquaintance.

“Come on, Waves, I wanna practice my leading moves!” Rosita said after a moment, taking Waverly’s hand and pulling her out of her seat.

Waverly smiled. This, she could do with no embarrassment. She’d been dancing while drinking with Rosita for months in the privacy of the apartment she and Wynonna shared. They were almost as comfortable dancing as she and Wynonna were, helping each other learn the lead part and sometimes falling down on top of each other in their drunkenness.

They made it through the dance without collapsing into giggles, but only just. Wynonna immediately swept Waverly into another dance, and then another, but Waverly bowed out before a fourth dance in a row, going to catch her breath and drink a bit of water along with more whiskey.

She turned to look out over the dance floor once she had a drink to sip. Red hair caught her attention immediately. Nicole was dancing with Rosita again, showing her off to good advantage, as any good lead should. Waverly wondered if she looked that good herself while dancing with Nicole.

The song ended and Waverly downed the rest of her drink, preparing to rush off to ask Nicole to dance before she could convince herself not to do so. But even as Waverly plopped her glass on the bar, someone else was already on Nicole’s arm.

Waverly narrowed her eyes. She would just have to wait for the next song.

But the same thing happened with the next song. And the next. Waverly finally made her way over to the edge of the dance floor, a little drunk after another whiskey. How was she supposed to get this woman’s attention again?

“Evening,” someone said.

Waverly glanced over to see a woman in a suit had sidled up next to Waverly. She had pale skin and dark hair, short and straight and slicked back like the boys did. Her features were beautiful, though the adjective felt a little incongruous given her masculinity.

“Hello,” Waverly greeted, before returning her attention to Nicole on the dance floor.

“May I have this dance?” the woman tried again.

Waverly thought for a moment. Maybe…

“Sure,” Waverly said. She placed her hand on the arm of this new woman, whose name she did not know, and they made their way onto the dance floor. Waverly was pleased to see that they were near Nicole.

Her plan was simple. By already being on the dance floor, Waverly could more easily intercept Nicole before someone else did. She wanted to dance more with her. She wanted to speak with her. Waverly was smart. She could make conversation. She knew she could hold her own with this cocky woman. She just needed another opportunity.

So she danced with a new woman, less interesting but no less skilled on the dance floor.

The song ended and Waverly went to separate from her partner with a smile and a “thank you.” Only the woman wouldn’t let her.

Arms tightened around Waverly’s waist like a vice. “Come on, darlin’. It’s a slow one. Don’t leave me hanging out here all alone?” The woman’s smile was just a _little_ sickly in its sweetness.

Waverly looked around. Nicole was finally alone, breathing hard but smiling as she walked off the floor. Wynonna and Rosita were partnered nearby, a little sloppy in their drunkenness, draped over each other while swaying to the slow songf. Waverly looked back up to her partner. What was the harm in one more dance, especially since she had missed her opportunity to dance this one with Nicole?

“All right,” Waverly said, putting on the smile she used for customers at the bar in order to cover for her hesitation. She didn’t want to be _rude_ and make this woman think she didn’t want to spend _any_ time with her.

The grip loosened, and Waverly tried to relax. But she just wasn’t comfortable after her partner’s insistence. And this woman’s behavior didn’t help matters. Her hands kept moving, smoothing Waverly’s skirt down over her hips or traveling up her back. It made Waverly feel like a thing to be pawed at, toyed with.

It reminded Waverly of Champ, and that ultimately made her so uncomfortable that she purposefully put a little distance between them. Honestly, Waverly hadn’t even noticed until she pulled away that she was plastered against this woman. And it wasn’t her doing.

“I-” Waverly started, but was cut off by a hand cupping her jaw and tilting her head back. Lips were on hers an instant later, a tongue pushing into her mouth as a body pressed close.

Waverly panicked. Squealing her dismay, she stomped her heel on her assailant’s foot and pushed away as hard as she could.

“Ow!” the woman yelled, hopping for a moment before reaching for Waverly. “What the hell?!”

“The lady made her position clear, Beth. Move on to someone else.” Nicole moved in next to Waverly, not stepping in front of her but positioning herself so she could do so quickly if needed. Waverly appreciated it. She didn’t need a big show of being rescued, but the dark-haired woman was bigger than her. The support might come in handy.

“She hit me!” the woman – Beth – shouted.

The music continued on, but not loud enough to cover Waverly’s rejoinder.

“You stuck your tongue in my mouth!” Waverly shouted, stepping forward. “After basically forcing me to dance!”

“I asked! You said yes!” Beth jabbed a finger at Waverly to make her point.

“I was being nice! It was not an invitation for _that_!”

Even besides the whiskey working to lower her inhibitions regarding confrontation, Waverly was downright _angry_. That was her first kiss with a woman. All this bright new world of possibility, and it turned out women – or _this_ woman – were no different from the Champs of the world. Pushing and cajoling and coercing girls into giving them what they wanted.

And so Waverly’s first kiss with a woman would be just like her first kiss with a boy, her first sex with a man, and it seemed Waverly would never break out of the cycle, even here.

The thought infuriated her.

“Go on! Just because you’ve got an inheritance and don’t have to contribute to the war effort doesn’t mean you can just do anything you want!” Nicole was now shouting, nearly toe-to-toe with Beth. The brunette fumed, seeming to tower over Nicole despite Nicole’s greater height. Nicole did not back down, clearly ready to brawl right there on the dance floor if needed.

Waverly looked around them, her anger simmering down. They had an audience. The band had stopped mid-song. Everyone was watching. Wynonna appeared at her side.

“You okay, baby girl?” she asked, loud enough that Nicole looked over briefly, nodding when she made eye contact with Wynonna and then moving her gaze back to Beth.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” Waverly took a deep breath. “I don’t want to be here anymore.” She turned and walked off the dance floor. She felt Wynonna and Rosita’s presence as the two joined her, wordlessly gathering their coats and purses before moving for the exit.

“Wait, Waverly!”

Waverly glanced behind her. She was in the dim hallway leading toward the exit. Silhouetted at the brighter end, with the music starting back up behind her, was Nicole.

“Go on, I’ll join you outside,” Waverly said to Wynonna and Rosita, then turned fully to face Nicole.

“Hey. Thanks,” Waverly said, her smile small, reserved.

“Anytime.” Nicole moved closer. “Beth left out the back. I just… wanted you to know. I understand if you still want to leave, but you don’t have to leave because of _her_.”

Waverly shook her head. “I don’t…” Tears came unbidden to her eyes, and she turned her head away, embarrassed.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Nicole said, _crooned_ , and Waverly leaned toward the sturdy sound almost against her will. A warm, strong hand brushed against her upper arm, offering support without forcing herself into Waverly’s personal space. Given the evening’s events, it was much appreciated.

“This was my first time out,” Waverly said after a minute to compose herself.

“Out?”

“Here,” Waverly said, gesturing around her. “At a place like this.”

Nicole’s face fell. “Oh no…”

“That was my first kiss. With a woman.” Waverly took a deep breath and blew it out. “I had a boyfriend who went away to war. I haven’t heard from him.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicole started, but Waverly shook her head.

“No. That’s not what I mean. He’s not dead. But he pressured. All the time. Our first kiss was a stolen kiss. Most kisses after that were, too. They lasted longer than I wanted. Everything _else_ that we did was always at his…”

“Suggestion?” Nicole supplied.

“Coercion.” Waverly swallowed, feeling the tears again. “He wasn’t a _bad_ guy, or maybe he wasn’t _different_ from any other guy. I don’t know. Maybe all guys are like him, maybe they aren’t. But that _woman_ just did the same goddamn thing _he_ always did and it was supposed to be different here. I can’t-”

“Waverly,” Nicole breathed.

“Can I just undo it?!” Waverly burst out.

Nicole looked genuinely confused. “What?”

“Can I not be the victim and just undo it? Can I have a _different_ first kiss with a woman? Can I leave here and _not_ have the night be about _that_?” Waverly said, pointing in the general direction of the dance floor.

Nicole still looked confused, but she nodded. “What did you have in mind?”

Waverly swallowed, heart hammering. “Can I kiss you? Can _that_ be my first kiss on my first night out at a lesbian club?”

Nicole’s smile spread slowly but surely across her face, radiant despite the dimness of the hall. “I’d given up hope of being so lucky, Waverly Earp.”

Waverly’s heart soared and she closed the small space between them, pushing herself up to her tiptoes so that she might reach.

Their lips met and Waverly could have sworn she felt a small jolt of electricity. Nicole’s lips were plump, her skin smooth and unlike anything Waverly had every felt. Nicole’s breath hitched and Waverly felt it, Nicole’s whole body shifting with it. It sent a thrill through Waverly and she almost fell over.

But Nicole caught her. Nicole caught Waverly with her arms around her waist and Waverly couldn’t help but feel that was an omen for their future. Her heart soared and she thought she might float away at the thought, but of course Nicole – having caught her – now grounded her. And that, too, felt like an omen.

She set such silly thoughts aside, ascribing them to her overactive imagination, and focused instead on the warmth of Nicole’s lips and the salt taste of her upper lip, the feel of Nicole’s shoulders under Waverly’s arms, the fullness of her chest at the physical proximity of this wondrous woman.

They finally separated after a minute or two that changed Waverly’s world.

“Was that an acceptable first kiss?” Nicole husked, still so close and breathing Waverly’s air.

Waverly smiled and chuckled. “Yes. Yes, that will do.”

“Well, then, Waverly Earp,” Nicole said, and pulled away just a little bit more. “I think I’m going to need to ask you on a proper date.” She grinned. “Somewhere else,” she added with a wink. “Don’t want your sister cramping our style.”

Waverly laughed, quietly grateful Nicole was willing to let the trauma of the evening slide away and not drag it back out in front of her. She pulled her notebook out of her purse and scribbled in it, yanked the paper out, and handed it to Nicole.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” Waverly asked.

Nicole flashed that million-dollar grin, dimples and all. “I sure am.”

“Great. That’s my address. I’ll see you at seven.” Waverly pushed forward, lifting to tiptoe again and pressing a soft kiss to Nicole’s lips. “Thank you,” she breathed.

And then she was out the door, Nicole’s smile still seeming to fill her vision. She passed a confused Wynonna and Rosita, who rushed to catch up to her as they walked to the train. She knew she was grinning like an idiot, but she didn’t care. She had a date. With Nicole Haught.

What a time to be alive.

**Author's Note:**

> TAKING PROMPTS
> 
> Got another universe/time period you want these two to meet-cute in? Drop me a comment with the suggestion. Maybe it’ll give my muse ideas!


End file.
